


All We Want

by chubbyhawke



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Coming Out, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Violence, Possibly Unrequited Love, Teen Romance, Terminal Illnesses, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chubbyhawke/pseuds/chubbyhawke
Summary: Garrett Hawke is the oldest child of three, leaving the home he’d always known in his senior year of high school to start all over again in a place 12 hours away, in Kirkwall, Nevada. Hawke was failing most of his classes in his last school and he has a reputation for causing trouble. As such, most people don't have a lot of faith in Garrett Hawke's future, let alone his dreams of somehow getting into the best liberal arts college in Fereldan. But Hawke is holding onto his hope for himself as best as he can.From falling in love with the local punk and stopping student protests to getting in fist fights with quarterbacks, Hawke still has a lot to learn in his last year of high school. One lesson in particular that he's not about to forget any time soon.





	All We Want

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever wanted DA2 but as a teen-fiction coming of age story? Well, here we are, and I have no regrets. Expect to see every stereotype, every trope, and every cliche that anyone has ever written for a high school story. If you're a fan of Nicholas Sparks or John Green, you've come to the right place. If not, you should probably turn around. Just a fair warning to you. This is heavily inspired by movies like Perks Of Being A Wallflower, Lady Bird, Easy A, The Spectacular Now, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Paper Towns, and many, many others. 
> 
> If you like this fic please leave a comment or a kudos! I really really appreciate it and it keeps me motivated to write more. Also thanks to @/The-Tevinter-Biscuit for beta-ing this for me c : You're the best (nerd). 
> 
> I'll do my best to update this every Tuesday!

Music always had this effect on him that he couldn’t quite piece together.

He never understood the way a song could take him to another place entirely, how he could listen to the same one on loop for an hour and never get tired of it. Were there people who were like that with a piece of art? Music was like art, wasn’t it? Were there people who just stared at paintings for hours just because it gave them peace? He found himself wondering this rather often, truthfully. He always hoped that someday he'd meet people who felt the same way about music that he did, people who would share his passion. He wasn't open about it, necessarily, but he still wondered sometimes if there were even people out there who cared as much as he did.

“Move your _fat ass_ , Garrett!”

Perhaps not.

“Carver! One more cuss word and I’ll leave you at the next exit.”

“It’s not my fault your son is the size of a cow.”

“Carver Nathaniel Hawke!”

There was no possible way he could move over anymore without squishing his sister, Bethany, up against the other door. She wasn’t a dick, she was actually cool. He’d rather let his weight squish Carver and listen to him whine if he had to choose one of the two (which he did; there was no way he could balance himself comfortably in the middle). The two of them were twins, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Bethany was polite, intelligent, funny and incredibly creative. Carver was short-tempered, envious, extremely pessimistic and quick to make cruel, sarcastic comments about anyone whenever he could.

Then, there was Garrett, or, Hawke (as he preferred to be called): the oldest one, the ‘responsible’ one, and, as Carver would put it, the ‘fat’ one. He was a lot fatter in middle school, mind you. If he was sitting in the middle now at the size he was then, Carver really would have something to shout about.

“How much longer until we’re in Kirkwall, mom?” his sister asked, sitting up a little and peaking over the front seat towards her mother.

“Why do we even have to go to Kirkwall? Why can’t we just stay in Lothering?” Carver continued to complain.

“You know why, Carver,” Mom replied stiffly, her tone a little quieter before but no less stern and commanding. “We can’t afford to live there any longer without your father. We’ll have to live with your Uncle Gamlen until I find a new job and it gets us all back on our feet.”

Their father’s death was still a sore wound. It had been a year since it happened, but that hadn’t made it any easier on any of them. They could carry on with their lives and keep going without him but somehow his absence had added a new weight that none of them were quite ready to carry. Emotionally or financially. They had to sell their childhood home just to afford to leave it. Now, Kirkwall seemed to be their only hope for survival: a town that was over four states away and where their Uncle Gamlen had promised them a place to stay.

No one was struggling with this transition quite as much as Hawke was. This was meant to be his last year of high school. He was the quarterback of his football team, surrounded by a close circle of friends and yes, he was even the leader of the school’s marching band at one point. Now all of that was dust, quite literally ‘Gone with the Wind’ as the phrase goes. He had to start all over in a new school where he didn’t know anyone and no one knew him. Even worse, he wasn’t exactly the kind of kid who could blend in.

Hawke was the type who was regularly mistaken for someone in their late twenties or thirties rather than someone who was barely scraping 18. At 6’4 and 235 lbs with a nearly-full beard that had only a few thin patches by the temple, he looked more like a grizzly bear than a high school student. He was in football, which kept him in shape now, but in junior high, before all that, he was always the fat kid that got picked on by the more athletic kids. He wasn’t ready to walk into a school and be stared at by everyone there, to be the giant, the circus freak. He dealt with that enough in Lothering.

“We should be there in a few hours, Bethy,” Mom said eventually, finally answering his sister’s question.

Hawke leaned back against the seat, just wanting to rest his head only to realize that, of course, there wasn’t a head-rest for the middle seat. So his head just sort of hung limply off the back, causing a dull ache to form at the base of his neck. He huffed, turning up the music on his headphones and squeezing his eyes shut. He prayed that, by some grace of God, these next few hours would go by just a little bit faster.

 

It didn’t take long for the fact to strike Hawke that Kirkwall was a lot bigger than Lothering, and busier. Gamlen had told their mother that the school in his district was small, but now he had a hard time believing it.

Their Uncle Gamlen was a landlord of low prestige, known for his drinking and gambling habits that created thin relationships between him and his tenants. However, he had a flat that the family of four could stay in and each have rooms of their own. That fact alone was a blessing, their mother would remind them. They should be thankful.

When the car was parked, though, the feeling of being able to stand and stretch his legs after a twelve-hour road trip was what he was thankful for most of all. He could hear chatter amongst his mother and his siblings as they grabbed bags from the trunk but all Hawke could do was spread his arms out at his sides and above his head just to appreciate the sensation of feeling his muscles move.

“Leandra! The years sure haven’t been kind to you,” a nasally voice called from ahead of them, stepping down some stairs with his arms spread out wide. Their mother beamed at the sight of the man, her eyes twinkling as she rushed over and pulled her younger brother into an embrace.

“Gamlen!” she squeezed him tightly. “You have no _idea_ how good it is to see you.”

“This was a lot to take in, Leandra. You losing your house, your job, and now you’re forced to travel all the way here to Kirkwall because it's all you can afford. I did the best I could to make your arrangements, I did, but in order to keep you all here... payments _do_ need to be made for upkeep.”

“Gamlen, look at us. Surely you can’t expect us to pay rent,” Leandra frowned, her expression of joy suddenly fading away.

“I don’t, but I’ll need your kids to help to pull weight around here,” he said. “I’ll have plenty of work for them to do, and it'll keep you here, with a roof over your head.”

“Of course. They could use the chores,” Leandra replied, smiling again. “I’m sure you’ll understand that Bethany can’t do much, what with... her condition.”

“I can handle a few chores if it helps us keep the apartment,” Bethany spoke up.

“No, baby girl, you’d better not.” Her mother caressed her face for a moment, running her thumb over her cheekbone. “Come on, kids, let’s take our bags inside.”

“Here are the keys,” Gamlen said. “I’ll talk to you later tonight.”

“Thank you for this, Gamlen. I swear you won’t regret it.”

“I hope you keep that promise, Leandra.” He wore this wry smile though the look in his eyes was without emotion. They were empty like snake eyes as he turned heel and disappeared through the front double doors.

It didn’t take long for everyone to bring their things to the new flat. They hadn’t left Lothering with much. Anything they couldn’t fit into their bags had to be sold with the house. However, the flat was already mostly furnished: a single couch, a tiny kitchen, a bed to every room, and a bathroom that seemed to be sufficiently clean and functioning.

Hawke was eternally grateful to see the bed. He set his things down on the floor, sighing as he plopped down on the edge and sank down into the mattress. It was a spring mattress, not the most comfortable in the world but after being stuck in that car for twelve hours it felt like a cloud. The rest of his family seemed to be in the same way of it, sitting on their beds and just taking this brief moment to breathe and rest. Hawke had nothing else to ask for. Perhaps being in Kirkwall wouldn’t be so bad. At least outside of the school, when he was alone and sleeping in this bed.

He shifted a little, however, when he felt the tingling of something crawling up his right arm. He frowned and brushed it off, but the size of what he touched had him bolting upright and practically leaping from the bed.

A bug about as big as the tip of his finger, dark brown and creeping across the expanse of white sheets. He’d never seen such a bug before in his life.

_“Mom!”_

His mother was quick to answer the call, rushing into the room and looking on towards the beast in question with a new expression of horror.

“Oh _no,_ Garrett-...“

“What is it? Can you kill it? _What is it?”_  Hawke looked from the bug to his mother’s face, desperate for some kind of answer.

“Pick up your stuff and get it out of this room. We’ll have to sanitize all of it,” she looked up to meet her son’s eyes, cupping his cheek. “Your mattress has bed bugs.”

The whole family was back on its feet again in seconds when the words ‘bed bugs’ started floating around. Carver and Hawke turned over the couch and flipped all the mattresses to look for more nests but the only one they could find was in Hawke’s room, in Hawke’s mattress. What a treat.

His mother got supplies from Gamlen to bomb the room, quarantining it from the rest of the house with a piece of paper taped on the door that read: "DO NOT OPEN". Everything in there was covered in a plastic sheet that they'd retrieved from the basement and soaked with enough chemicals to wipe out a small ecosystem. In the meantime, Hawke was to take the living room and keep his things there until the bed bugs were gone.

“How long does it take for them to die?” Hawke asked as he begrudgingly tossed his bags down beside the couch. His mother was in the kitchen, putting away the chemicals she’d been given. She was starting to try to organize the cabinets, filling them with the canned food that they’d brought from home. Well, their old home, that is.

“Ninety days, at least, according to your uncle,” she said without turning her head to look at him.

“And when does school start?”

“Next Wednesday.”

So he was going to be on this stupid couch for 3 whole months _during_ school? Well, there went all his hope for anything about this Kirkwall thing being even slightly good. This couch wasn’t even big enough for him. When he laid down, his feet hung off of the opposite arm and his head ended up propped at an uncomfortable angle that he would end up keeping for the entire night. He groaned, falling into the back of the couch and closing his eyes, his face in his hands.

“You can have my bed if you want, Gare.”

Hawke looked up to see his younger sister, fourteen, walking into the living room just after unpacking her own bags in the room that she’d claimed for herself. He sighed. Of course, his sister was offering her bed up to him, it was so like her.

“No, Bethy, you sleep in your bed,” he replied, letting his hands fall limply down to his sides. “You need it more than I do. Thanks for offering, though.”

“I can set up my stuff out here,” she continued. “You know that I can breathe just fine at night as long as I'm-"

"It's okay, Beth. I'll be fine," Hawke assured her, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I promise."

"Okay," she looked defeated, but she still smiled at him. "If the couch is too uncomfortable, I could help you make a pallet on the floor with some pillows and blankets and stuff."

Right, the floor. As if that were much better. He huffed. This wasn’t Bethany’s fault, she was just trying to help her big brother in any way that she could, like always (even though she couldn't do as much now as she could've before). He looked back up at her again and put on a smile of his own.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Beth.”

It was three days after first moving in that Hawke would meet his new neighbors in this dreaded building that would now be his home. The couch had taken its toll on his back, that was for sure, and now Gamlen had him pulling weeds from the flower bed at the front of the complex. So, in short, you could say that Hawke felt nothing less than miserable. Which was only made worse when the front doors of the building opened and he heard the voice of a girl, around his age or maybe a year younger, speaking to him.

“You get stuck pulling the weeds?”

“Oh no, I’m doing this because I _love_ sitting with my knees in the mulch. _Especially_ when it makes red marks all over my skin,” he said bitterly, not looking up.

The girl tutted, coming over to crouch down beside him. She reached a hand over to yank out some crabgrass that was rooted fairly securely in the soil as if it were nothing at all to her. She'd hardly even flexed a muscle.

“That’s a good attitude to have, as sarcastic as I’m sure you’re being.”

This time, Hawke finally looked up at her. He was right in his guess for her age, no older than 18 with effeminate shoulders and ginger hair that was cut short, almost similar to a boy’s. She was covered in freckles from her cheeks, over her shoulders and down her arms, which were noticeably muscular as well. He could tell she was a girl, the smaller parts of her femininity were clear to him but that didn’t at all mask her... uniqueness.

“Did Gamlen send you out here to help me because I wasn’t doing it fast enough?”

“No,” she replied easily. “I was supposed to be cleaning the lobby and I saw you out here. I thought I’d make conversation.”

“So Gamlen has all the teenagers in his building do his dirty work, then?”

“Only the ones that are poor and need some money docked off of the rent,” she said. “Are you saying you’re a teenager too?”

“Yeah, I’m eighteen,” he said. By the look on her face, she seemed to hardly believe it.

“I would have never guessed we were the same age by looking at you,” she said, sitting back on her haunches. “I figured you actually worked here, that you could have been a janitor.”

“How old did you think I was?”

She was silent for a moment, looking away from him as if she were deciding her next words carefully.

“No younger than twenty-eight.” Hawke laughed at that.

“I get that a lot,” he said honestly, still smiling. “My name is Hawke.”

“Hawke? Is that a family name?” she asked.

“Yeah, what I prefer to go by,” he said. “And you?”

“Aveline,” she smiled. “I think I saw you when your family was moving into the flat across from mine.”

“It’s nice to know I’m not the only one moving into a totally new school my senior year,” he noted, sitting back and wiping the mulch on his hands off on his jeans.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed. “I lost my boyfriend of three years when we moved here.”

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly looked down at his hands again. He’d never had any relationship last longer than a month, and any that did were purely based on sexual interest and nothing more. Of course, his... "preferences" in that area did slightly complicate things. He could only imagine the grief that Aveline must have been dealing with. “If it helps, we had to move here because we lost my dad. So... I mean, I sort of understand. To lose someone you love, you know?”

She gave him a solemn smile, forming dimples in cheeks that were too round compared to how square and finely carved the rest of her seemed to be.

“I do,” she replied, looking away from him again. “I’m not ready to go through the trials again.”

Hawke furrowed his brow.

“The trials?”

“Getting made fun of for how you act or how you look when you go to a new school,” she explained, her smile returning. “I used to be called she-man, or man-hands.”

“Kids called me ‘The Giant’,” he said. Excluding a variety of other terms that had been used to describe him while he was in Lothering, not all of them pertaining to his looks. “Or ‘Bigfoot’. You’d be surprised how not-clever high school students are.”

She laughed.

“Oh, trust me, I know.” She rose to her feet, brushing the mulch off of her own hands and sighing. “Nice to meet you, Hawke, but I should probably get back to cleaning before I'm missed. I’ll see you at school?”

“Yeah,” Hawke nodded. “See you at school.”

 

When the Wednesday of the first day of school came around, Hawke was not mentally prepared for it. He lay there stiff on the couch with his face in the pillow, blanket barely covering him as he ignored the blaring sound of his phone alarm attempting to rouse him. He could practically feel how messy his hair was, bent in all sorts of angles from being pressed incorrectly on the pillow. Not even the snooze button and five more minutes of sleep would save him now.

He threw the blankets off of him, not caring about the fact that he was walking around in his boxers as he got himself some breakfast and did his best to mentally prepare himself for school. Their mother was already gone, dressed up and job-hunting. Hawke was left to be the one to make sure that the others got ready for school as well. Right. He needed to get on that.

He pushed his cereal to the side, wiping milk from his face with the back of his hand as he went down the hall to bang on Carver's bedroom door.

"Get up, Carver! We have school!"

There was a groan that came from the other side, and a 'fuck you' that got muffled by the door.

"If you're not dressed in ten minutes, I'm pulling you out of bed by your ankles."

With that, he turned away to go to Bethany's room next, walking in to see her still peacefully asleep. The mask of her night-time breathing machine was still securely attached to her face, a small fog forming on the plastic surface with her every exhale. It should have been calming to see his sister still asleep through all the commotion, cute, even, but it was just a reminder of the illness that she suffered, cancer in her lungs. It wouldn't be long until she lost her hair as well. When that happened, well, there would be no more dancing around the topic and no more ignoring it as though it weren't there.

"Hey, Beth," Hawke moved over to her bed, crouching down beside it and turning off the machine as it made a little beep. She shifted at that, her eyes squinting open as she instinctively reached up to pull the mask from her face with shaky hands. She set it on the side table, hands still shaking, so Hawke reached out to take them in his own, stilling their tremors with his gentle grip. She smiled.

"Thank you," she said as Hawke let her go, pushing herself upright and letting her blankets pool into her lap. "Ew. You're naked."

"Am not," he rolled his eyes. "Do you need any help? Are you going to school today?"

 

"I'm fine," she assured him, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. "And Mom won't let me go. She wants to try and get me to another doctor today."

Hawke frowned. "I'm sorry, I know how much you hate that."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, laying back against the pillows and grabbing her phone. "See you after school, Gare."

"Take care of yourself, Beth," Hawke smiled, ruffling her hair quickly before he stood up again and walked out of the room. He went ahead and decided to claim the bathroom so that he could shower and get ready while Carver still struggled to get himself out from under the blankets.

His hair was still a little damp by the time he was headed towards the door with a bag slung over his shoulders. Hawke didn't really care, he knew it would dry during the walk. Carver wasn't far behind him, grumbling more obscenities as they made their way down the stairs and out the door. He saw Aveline in the parking garage, walking toward a rusty pickup and twirling some keys in her hand. Hawke called out to her and waved. She turned around with a smile and returned the gesture before disappearing into the truck. Carver gave his brother a look.

"Who's she?"

"Our neighbor," he answered, not offering much more than that as he turned toward the sidewalk and looped his thumbs into his pockets.

Taking a look at the scenery that they passed on the way to the school, Hawke couldn't help but note that Kirkwall wasn't nearly as brown as Lothering. It was more sandy and red, the landscape littered with small patches of grass and larger patches of red-orange soil from which desert plants sprouted. His home had been full of mostly mud and pine trees, so this was a big change for him. Carver noticed it too, Hawke could tell by the way he looked around, though he didn't actually comment on it out loud. Even the buildings here were constructed differently than the ones at home. Most of the houses made him think of adobe shacks, looking almost like they were made out of clay. Of course, they were too modern for that, but it was different than the brick houses or the houses with plastic siding that he had grown accustomed to back home.

The city was also much, much larger than Lothering. That was notable just in the size of the school building that they were approaching. There was a sizeable crowd of students hanging around the front doors that the two of them had to push through in order to get inside. Hawke could feel eyes on him as he entered, but he did his best to look forward and keep on walking. They were supposed to go to the principal's office, that's what he remembered. There they would get their schedules and everything they needed to get to class that day.

Hawke didn't want to have to ask another student for directions. He didn't want to speak to anyone at all the entire day. Thankfully, he would be able to at least avoid the former, as there was a big sign taped on the wall that had an arrow pointing to the principal's door. The brothers exchanged glances, standing still for a moment before they both walked inside.

There was an old woman sitting behind the front desk, typing on a computer with a pair of glasses resting on the tip of her nose. They stood awkwardly in silence for several seconds waiting for her to notice them on her own. When that didn't seem like it was going to happen, Hawke cleared his throat, shifting on his feet slightly.

"We're supposed to see the principal this morning," he said.

The woman slowly flitted her eyes up to the two of them. She pursed her lips as if she were studying two puzzle pieces, trying to figure out which one would be a better fit.

"Which ones are you?" she asked with a ragged voice as if her vocal chords were on their last leg.

Carver looked up at Hawke expectantly. Right. He was the big brother, the adult. He was supposed to answer the questions.

"Garrett and Carver Hawke," he answered. "Bethany should be registered too, but she won't be coming in today. She has a doctor's appointment."

The woman nodded absently, slowly turning back towards her computer and typing something in. Hawke couldn't help but note how shaky her fingers were,  almost like Bethany's hands this morning when she was taking off her mask. Weak, and frail. He scolded himself for thinking that and pushed the images to the back of his mind as she turned back towards the two of them.

"Okay. Carver, if you'll go into Mrs. Stannard's office, right over there, she'll talk to you about-"

 

"Actually, if I could do mine first, that would be great," Hawke interjected. "I uh... I need to pee really bad. So the sooner this is done, the better. Carver doesn't mind waiting, do you, Carver?" Carver looked endlessly relieved, and he nodded. Hawke swore he even saw him smile a little. Uhuh, he'd better be grateful, the little bastard.

"Oh, okay," the woman typed something else before she turned away from her computer and faced Hawke fully. "Mrs. Stannard's office is right there. She'll see you now and make sure you're situated."

"Thanks a ton," Hawke smiled wide, giving Carver a knowing look as he walked away. He left his brother to take a seat in one of the chairs along the wall. He couldn't help but feel like he was a little too nice to the kid after how much of a jerk he was towards him, but he couldn't find it in him to care all that much as he entered the office, knocking on the frame of the door as he opened it. "Hello?"

Inside, he saw a middle-aged woman sitting behind a desk. She had long, silvery blonde hair that was tied back tightly behind her head. Her outfit was a lot of business and very little casual. Hawke had never seen anyone actually wear a pantsuit before, but here this woman was, wearing a black pantsuit with a white collared shirt and a black tie. She looked up at him from under the rim of some clearly expensive glasses. She looked him over for several moments in silence, hazel eyes observing him as if she could see right into his soul.

"Take a seat," she spoke finally, turning back towards the book she was writing in.

Hawke obeyed, wandering over to the chair and sitting down. He didn't like the way it squeaked a little beneath his weight, nor the way that Mrs. Stannard's presence was somehow extremely intimidating to him. She made him feel like he was trapped in a cage with a hungry lioness, preparing to strike at any moment.

"You're Mr. Garrett Hawke, correct?" she asked, looking up at him over her glasses.

"Uh, just Hawke please, but yeah," he said, nodding more than he needed to.

"Just... _Hawke?"_ she stared at him in silence for a moment before turning towards her book again. "How old are you, Mr... Hawke? And what grade are you supposed to be entering this year?"

"I turned 18 last month, so, I'm supposed to be in 12th."

She nodded, continuing to write, never looking up to meet his eyes. "You came from Lothering High School, correct?"

"Yeah."

"It says here that you were failing every one of your classes aside from Physical Education and..." she paused. "Band. Is that correct?"

He felt his heart sink a little at the words. He looked down at his lap.

"Yeah."

She huffed, leaning back in her chair and closing the book in front of her. She took off her glasses, setting them on the desk so that she could massage the bridge of her nose, her eyebrows tightly knitted together as she did so. Then, she let her shoulders relax as she put her glasses back on, looking up at Hawke and finally making eye contact.

"What are your plans after high school, Mr. Hawke?" she asked.

Hawke didn't even need to think about this. He found his confidence returning to him as he sat up, meeting her gaze with squared shoulders and answering, "I'm going to Cailin University for Fine Arts in Michigan and I'm becoming a music teacher."

This rendered Mrs. Stannard silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. Hawke shifted a little in his seat, looking at her expectantly. Then, there was a quirk at the corner of her lips, and she laughed. She shook her head, putting her forehead in one of her hands as she chuckled to herself. Hawke didn't understand. What was so funny? Did she think he was making a joke?

"Hm, funny. It's not often students make me laugh, you know," she said with a small smile as she caught hold of herself again. She cleared her throat. "Now, tell me, what do you really plan to do after high school? I have a note from your old principal about some potential football scholarships."

Hawke licked his lips, considering his next words carefully.

"I'm going to Cailin University for Fine Arts in Michigan and I'm becoming a music teacher," he repeated.

Mrs. Stannard's smile fell. She narrowed her eyes at Hawke, leaning forward to put her elbows on the desk, hands folding neatly on top of the book she'd been writing in before.

"You realize the acceptance rate for Cailin University as of last year was 7.5%, correct?" she said. "There's no way you'll get into Cailin. Not with your GPA. To be truthful to you, Mr. Hawke, you should invest your interests in either in the community college or in football. And with these grades, there's no way I'm letting you on the team. So, I suggest you work your tail off while you're here. Keep a C average, and we'll see about getting you on that football team."

"What about Band?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

"No extracurriculars until you get a C average," she said stiffly. "Now, here's your schedule, and a map of the building. Send your brother in here on your way out, would you?"

Hawke nodded, looking down at the papers that she handed him, and swallowing back any urge that he had to say something spiteful.

"Yeah."  

He rose from his seat, turning away without another word and heading out the office door. As he did, he ran straight into another boy who was heading that direction. Someone who was significantly shorter than him, well, most people were shorter than him, but even so.

"Shit- I'm sorry-"

He paused when he met his eyes, his heart momentarily forgetting to beat. The boy he'd run into looked as though he were carved from stone. Even his skin, dark like toffee but spotted with these light marks of absent pigment, like _marble._ He had these deep green eyes, cheekbones as sharp as knives and a shock of dyed white hair atop his head, shaved on the sides to show off the piercings in his ears that looked like they'd been done with a thumbtack. He was wearing this sick leather jacket with zipper pockets and chains. He gaped, not sure what to do with his mouth or his body. He was still in the way of the door. He was still in the way of the door.

_'Hawke, get out of the way of the goddamn door!'_

"Would you mind letting me through?" he asked with a frown, his voice surprisingly deep and gravelly for someone his size. It sent chills right down his spine. "If that's _convenient_ for you."

Hawke still gaped at him, but he managed to close his mouth eventually and straighten up. He tucked his papers under his arm and stepped off to the side, accidentally hitting his backpack off of the wall and only making himself look dumber.

"Uh- yeah, sorry again," he stammered. The boy paused to glare at him for a moment longer before he scoffed, walking into the office and slamming the door shut behind him. Hawke was still staring like an idiot after him, trying to piece together the events that had just transpired so that he could etch them into his memory forever.

"You'll be in in a moment, Mr. Carver Hawke," the old woman at the front said, typing something on her computer. "Fenris doesn't seem to understand how to wait his turn."

'Fenris,' that was his name. _'Fenris.'_

"Did you receive your schedule, Mr. Garrett?" the woman asked, turning to him as he still stood in the same place as if the floor had suddenly turned to wet concrete.

"Uh- y-yes," he nodded quickly, grabbing the strap of his bag with one hand and walking towards the door. "I'll head to my class right now."

"You'd better, or you'll be late," she said, but Hawke was already gone, and he was hardly listening. He'd even forgotten completely about what Mrs. Stannard had said to him, for the moment. Right now, there was only thing cycling through his thoughts. That name, that voice, that face. _'Fenris.'_

  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm already writing the second chapter of this, so I'm definitely hoping to have it up next Tuesday and I'm gonna try to force myself to keep a schedule with this as best as I can. Please leave me comments if you liked this, it really motivates me to keep writing more than anything else does! : ) Happy Easter !!


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